Man on the Run
by NameleSS21
Summary: John is an outlaw after murdering his father. How will life treat him now? And will he ever see the Breakfast Club again? Chapter 4 is now up.
1. Don't Fear the Reaper

**Disclaimer:**I do not own anything related to the Breakfast Club, I am just writing this story for fun.

**Author's note:**This is my first fan fiction ever... please enjoy this story written from John's POV.

I had thought of this moment many times, ever since I was young. I think of it as Independence Day, John Bender style. Over time, I came up with a plan. I ran it thru my head every night, telling myself;

_This is the night... The night that I finally end his miserable life, liberating myself... Tonight is the night my sick fuckhead father dies, and John Bender escapes the rotten shithole known as Shermer..._

Now I know for sure that I must do this... if I don't want to end up like my father; a tyrrant in a broken home (as some lameass dweeboid would say). It's now or never. Tonight, I start life on the run.

I get up from bed and quickly get dressed. I quickly think of the plan one more time. I'm ready... I take my duffelbag out of the closet and put it next to my door. I sigh, and make my way towards the living room.

My father is passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles, like a fuckin alcoholic. I decide to take off my boots for the moment, so I don't make to much noise. Ironically, _Friday the 13th_ is playing on the TV. I move towards him very slowly, with my switchblade raised.

With one swift move, it all ends for him. My switchblade is stuck in his throat, his eyes are wide open and he tries to scream, but blood is squirting out of his mouth. He grabs my arm with such a tight grip, I feel like he's gonna rip it right off.

But I stay focused. I look at him with utter hatred, and he replies with a sharp gaze. At the moment, I feel so saddistic and cruel and i just love it so much. I begin to saw his neck, and there's blood making it's way on to the furniture, the floor, him and even myself.

I pull out the knife, and wipe the blood on to the wall. He looks at me one more time, and then all of a sudden, that sharp gaze filled with so many feelings, turns into a blank stare.

I, John Bender, have just ended my own father's life. I don't know how to feel anymore. Hate, fear, remorse, angst, liberation, happiness, denial, relief; it all turns into one giant black hole inside of me. While his body rots into the Earth and I keep moving from city to city, always on the run, that black hole remains inside of me... forever.


	2. Going Mobile

Disclaimer: I don't own the Breakfast Club franchise, i'm just a fan...

The cool Chicago air embraces my bloody face as I run... Eventually, I run out of breath and stop. I sit down on a sidewalk and wipe the remaining blood off of my face. The murder of my father is the most life-changing thing that I have ever done... and I don't regret it. That small amount of remorse deep inside me is pushed aside by the feeling of saddistic satisfaction and an evil smirk comes across my face.

My plan is to head to the city and get some rest for the night. Tomorrow, I'll head south to avoid freezing to death in the cold, dark, Illinois winter.

After hitchin a ride and crossing the bridge, I head into the nicer part of the city. I want to get some sleep in an alley without being mugged. I find a cozy little dumpster to sleep beside. The night is young, and I'm feeling feisty, so I make a mental picture of the place and where it is. I head to a small, isolated department store and decide to pinch a few pennies right out of it.

I slowly walk into the door and fake interest in some candy bars. I notice that there's no security cameras. Just makes my job easier. The guy behing the counter is some neo-maxi-dweeboid with thick glasses and too much acne. I quickly make my way towards the counter. I grab the twerp and throw him over the counter which is surprisingly easy. I kick him once he's down and open the cash register. I While grabbing the sweet cash inside, Twig-boy yells at me in his squeaky voice, so I put my boot down on his head. That should shut him up. I grab a couple of beers and walk away. Twig-boy shouldn't have been working the graveyard shift.

I run the ten-or-so blocks back to the alley that I visited before. Now I'm exhausted so I pick out a few boxes from the dumpster and flatten them. I lay them down and top it off with a few newspapers for extra comfort... yeah right. It's a sad excuse for a shelter, if you can even call it that. Oh well. One step a time...


	3. Freebird

Disclaimer:Don't own (Breakfast Club), don't sue...

Author's note: I plan to have something happen with ''the club'' soon, keep reading.

I wake up to the sound of police sirens passing by... My head hurts like hell and my throat does too. It was a cold night, and I'm glad it's over. For now, I just focus on the day ahead of me.

I plan to steal a car and get down to Florida. I should arrive by Monday. The holidays should be starting soon. I hate the holidays. With all the faggy decorations, some fucking dildos singing stupid Christmas carols. And him. ''Smoke up Johnny!''. At least he's gone to hell. Maybe Santa should too.

I walk around a bit just to clear my head. I try to avoid the store I robbed last night. I find a small parking lot and see a nice ride. It's a 1969 Mustang GT, and I must have it. Whatever shithead owns it is going to have some trouble getting home.

Surprisingly, the douchebag left it unlocked. I get inside and hot-wire the thing and I'm on my way. It's a privilege to ride this thing, one that I gave myself.

It's nice and sunny outside, a perfect day. I feel great and nothing can ruin it. My father is gone, there's no dumbass teachers tellin me what to do. I'm as free as a bird now, and nothing can change that.

I stop at some run-down motel in Alabama and plan to head to Miami tomorrow.


	4. Fade to Black

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

* * *

_The taste of blood is fresh in my mouth, the tears on my face are still wet, the fear and pain in my heart kills me piece by piece. He has stopped hitting me now. He stands over me yelling. The wretched smell of alcohol fills my nostrils. _

_The tears finally leave my eyes and all I see is that sharp gaze. The one full of hatred and anger. I want him to die._

I awaken to the stench of alcohol. It's not that different from my dream, except he's not there. He's dead. I can't stop thinking about him...

I feel like he has no soul. What I see in front of me is no man. I want to kill him but I know he's not there. I throw my fist anyway. As my knuckles fly, I feel an impact. The illusion is real... The mirror cracks. This man is not my father. This man is me.

It's hard to see the difference anymore. After what I did to him, how do i know that I'm any better? How do I know that I won't end up like him? I can't live like this.

I take my switchblade out of my duffelbag. I raise the blade and pull down my sleeve. I feel the old familiar sting on my wrist, except this time I know it's real. The cut is deep and the pain is real. The happiness I felt yesterday was but a mirage.

As reality sinks in to my skin, it becomes all so clear: I have ruined my life. It felt so right at first, but now I realize that if I had just waited, I could of become something. But now I'm nothing but an outlaw.

I hear the voice of Richard Vernon in my head, telling me that I'm worthless. Now I know he's right.

Drops of blood run down my wrists, tickling me in a strange way. My surroundings become blurred, my memories faint. This is the end.

The smoke in my head clears and all I see is her... Claire. Her beatiful smile. If there's such thing as an angel, it's her. I must see her again. All of them.

I have to go back to Shermer. If my life must end I at least have to let them know. I will reunite the Breakfast Club.

After the detention, nothing much changed. I kept on fighting with my dad, Claire was still but a tool for her parents, Andy was the fake sensation he had always been, Brian never escaped his cage of pressure and Allison was still a ghost. All that changed was the fact that we had each other.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hopefully the beginning wasn't too confusing. You'll also notice that I focused more on John's feelings for this chapter... 


End file.
